


applecherry bomb

by tastry



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-11
Updated: 2012-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-18 11:07:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/560369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastry/pseuds/tastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Isenia Tella just wants to make her flushcrush happy. However, it's hard to do that when he's hung up on some other girl who's a hundred times better than her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	applecherry bomb

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very self indulgent fic. and yes, i am prone to writing a lot of karkat-terezi-gamzee combos.

The corridors are silent. 

Your hands are stuffed in your pockets, eyes baggy and tired as you’re just barely making it through the halls and into your respiteblock after yet another exhausting day of dealing with people. Being alone on a meteor engulfed in romance sure did really suck sometimes.

Pushing some of your hair back as you walk, your ears perk up as you suddenly hear a noise. 

Slowing your steps until you’re completely glued to your spot, you strain your hears and take in the sound of moans filling a room nearby.

A cackle.

A honk.

Not a minute later you tear down the hallway. 

*

You’re going to get yelled at.

You know that walking around at this hour (you pretending that there is some sort of time to guide you through the ‘day’) ‘someone’ was going to catch you and you were going to get yelled at.

However there is one thing that kept you on your trek to your destination and that was: you are not a wriggler. You are old enough to make your own decisions and if someone doesn’t like that then that is just too bad for them.

(Whistling happily to yourself, you realise that the person you are going to visit would quite strongly beg to differ.)

Nonetheless you are stubborn, and as you draw closer to the corridor of where your friend is staying and push down your hood and ruffle your hair, you can feel a bit of nervousness setting up a permanent residency in your gut. He’ll be angry, you know that, but he’s been angry for so long that it doesn’t scare you anymore.

“Knock knock,” you say softly, small fist tapping against the metal door a few times before you invite yourself in.

A sock comes in to contact with your face almost immediately.

Karkat looks like he’s just had a really bad hang over. His eyes are puffy and red like apples and his arms are like spaghetti: sprawled along his body in a mess that looks almost painful. He’s laying down on the floor, his shirt raised and his back twisted as it presses against the cool floor. You can hear him trying to suppress a few sniffles and you frown.

“Hey,” you try, a small smile on your face as you dig into your sweatshirt pocket and hold out an apple, kneeling down beside him and resting it on his stomach, trying to get a laugh out of him.

He hisses and glares, shooting up in an instant. The apple rolls off of him and along the ground. He bares his teeth and glares, eyes red and puffy and so, so pitiful it hurts.

“Karkat,” you say and you bite your lip, nerves getting the better of you and you can feel yourself losing your ability to speak. This always happens to you and you hate it. Every time you try to talk to him, you freeze up because he’s so eloquent yet angry and beautiful in his pain and goddamn it hurts to just look up and speak because you’re just going to hear the same thing again.

You’ve been flushed for him for who know’s how long and throughout the sweeps you’ve slowly worked up the ladder of friendship he keeps so corroded and eventually gained the privilege of him calling you his friend. But that’s all you have ever been, and ever will be to him. A friend. 

“C’mon,” you say, elbowing him with a soft smile on your face as you try to get him to smile for you. Your cheeks are burned to a sunshine crisp and your hands are clammy as you put them on his shoulders and give him a gentle shake. His eyes, still red and puffy, watch you with a sense of remorse and anger, and distaste rests on his lips. “You’ve been here for perigees,” you wish you were over-exaggerating, “you can’t mope forever, can you?”

“Get out,” he whispers so softly that at first you couldn’t hear him.

“Huh?”

“I SAID GET OUT!” 

You jump up immediately, tripping over your feet and your back hits the wall. You wince, teeth slicing into your lower lip as you bite back a cry of pain. You know that it would only make him feel worse, it would only make him feel like less of a troll.

Without looking at him, you hold back your tears long enough until you’re out the room and dashing down the hallway, tears falling down your face as you ran.

It hurts because you want to help him but he’s so stubborn and hung up over the fact because of the girl of his dreams wants someone else, while you hang as second-best, just barely his friend, never to be noticed.

Your name is Isenia Tella and unrequited feelings really suck.

*

You find yourself in the dining room, weeks after that painful encounter, bored out of your mind. A fresh, new apple sits beside you, gleaming in the dim light the candles provide you.

Your book sits comfortably on your lap and you can’t help but smile a little to yourself. Hanging around on the meteor sure got repetitive, so you usually pass the time with a good book to read. Immersed in your reading, you’re hardly aware when your name is called out.

“Hey Sunshine.”

You smile weakly, cheeks flushing in the slightest.

“Hey, Dave.”

Dave smirks a little, looking pleased with himself as he sighs aloud and takes your apple in his hand, throwing it up and down. The next time he throws it up, he catches it between his teeth and grins, causing you to giggle.

“Heard about what happened the other day--”

“The other day, or week,” you tease with a more natural smile, although it was a downfall of yours and not so much his. Teasing yourself helped to lock the pain away.

“-- _and_ ,” he bonks you on the head for good measure, “I just wanted to give you my condolences, Miss Isenia. It must suck some major ass when your feelings are unrequited like that. But at least that’s one thing you and Karkat have in common, isn’t it?”

Your lip quivers a bit and your eyes widen. By the look on your face, Dave could tell that the conversation had escalated rather quickly and his eyebrows arch until they’re clearly seen over his shades.

“Shit, uh,” he says hurriedly. 

He’s said the wrong thing and he knows it. 

“Shit that’s not what I meant. I--ugh.” He sighs, putting a hand on your shoulder and giving you a gentle shake. “Just try talking to him again, ok?”

You groan, extremely discouraged from what you thought was supposed to be a pep talk and shake your head. Your forehead ends up resting against the table and you open your moth to speak, voice small and much more hurt than what you intended. “He loves Terezi, remember?”

Dave sighs along with you and rests his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He shoots the watchful troll across the room a glare and shakes his head.

*

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you are truly and in all of god’s grace the greatest asshole to ever grace the planet of Alternia. Really, good job. A standing ovation is quite necessary for just how much you suck. 

You are currently resting by the horn pile, painfully aware of the swirl of teal-and-indigo saliva only a few feet away from you, but you decide to ignore it. You know you’re here to think, but it’s hard to think when the girl of your dreams is getting freaky with your best bro. Honestly, what had you ever done in life to deserve such--

\--stop. 

Biting on your lip, you close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, calming your nerves and trying to keep yourself from spiralling downwards into a hopeless pit of desperation and sadness. That piece of shit you call a conscience and a heart. Sighing, you raise your hand and press it against your forehead, back pressing almost painfully against the horn pile as you force yourself to take deep breathes and relax. 

As you assure yourself and pretend that it’s working, you pull a few levers in your brain and try to fix the gears.

Your motor, all of your energy is completely fuelled on the thought that you are a terrible and worthless sack of bones and organs because you’re focused on this one girl who doesn’t even _love_ you! You put all of your energy into making her feel happy and special and amazing (because who are you kidding, she is) all for the reason that you think if you show her that you’re the better guy, she might just take a liking to you. 

Things never work out in your favour.

Honestly, you just want to understand. You want to understand how she can’t love you. How she can’t appreciate all that you’ve sacrificed for her, by her. Who the hell would do what you’ve done for her?

The answer is on the tip of your tongue and you’re suddenly washed up with the feeling of immense guilt for not thinking of it earlier.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you ignore the pools of teal and indigo around you and remember.

She has bright yellow eyes, and a toothy fang that sticks out when she smiles.

She’s shy when she’s around others but mention anything about apples or books and she lights up like the sun. 

She’s blunt and straightforward, but in the way a small kitten is be when they want affection.

Your cheeks heat up and you shake your head, trying to calm down and think clearly because she just wasn’t the one. She didn’t understand you like Terezi did. 

But then again, what does Terezi know about you?

*

“Karkat!”

You raise your head, finger pads pressing defensively over the cover of your book as you squint at the skipping figure coming your way. You try to growl as that stupid smile of hers invades your vision like the plague but it stings of a warmth and light that you forgot could exist inside the dark room you kept yourself imprisoned in.

Isenia smiles even wider, as if there is no limit to how bright a person could be, and holds out two things to you. In her right hand is the book that you let her borrow ages ago (because holy shit she wouldn’t shut the fuck up about wanting to have it and you had important shit to do so you just gave it to her out of your convenience, not hers) and another of her stupid red apples that she always carries around with.

You ignore the apple.

“I know I’ve had this for god knows how long and you probably want it back so here it is!” she practically sings as she sets the book beside you on the table.

You feel as if your frown is etched permanently on your face as you raise an eyebrow and scowl again. Was this really the girl who you made cry only a few days ago because you’re angry as you always are and you just lashed out on her?

Didn’t you always lash out on her?

“Thanks,” you grumble, and the word is scratchy because it’s probably the first word you’ve spoken in days. 

Isenia smiles again but then hesitates for a moment as you just continue to stare blankly at her. However, you relax against as she spins on her heel and begins to walk away just as quickly as she came. There’s a small beat of your heart as she turns her back towards you, but you fight away the warmth with another cold stare. 

Her smile is immeasurable as she spins her red apple on her finger before clasping it in her hand. “I’ve always liked apples, but I’ve never liked the red ones until I met you. Red is a beautiful colour, don’t you think?”

You grumble, fighting down a flush. “That’s a stupid way of thinking.”

It’s silent, if only for a moment. But as the silence comes so does a warmth. Lips press against your cheek for a few seconds, but she pulls away quickly and you’re almost disappointed.

Almost.

You can see her glow again as she giggles at the cherry colour on your face. No, the red apple colour.


End file.
